Clive Dove: It's all downhill from here, Boy- The Rewrite
by Leona 'Jay' Jasmin
Summary: A rewrite of the original. Part 1 of the Clive Dove Trilogy. Clive Roberts had everything he could ask for, enough food, a nice home, and loving parents. But one second ripped it all away from him. The experiment gone wrong turned him into this...insane monster. This is the true story of an innocent eight year old, in the space of fifteen years, became a cold-hearted killer.
1. Chapter 1

**I am doing a rewrite of my second FanFiction, Clive Dove: It's all downhill from here, boy. My writing's matured, and I find the original childish now. I will be doing this version now, plot's been revised and shaken up a bit, lengthened when needed, and grammar has improved. There will also be more swearing in this version, though most of the words used were just normal words used in London in the time of the games.**

This is what I remember of myself when the insanity first started:

For a first, my name was still Clive, though my surname was Roberts, not Dove. Second, I lived in a flat next to a small building rented to three scientists for them to do their experiments in. I vaguely remembered the three of them. Dimitri was young, caring and ambitious, and generally a pretty selfless man. Claire; I didn't know much about, but she was also young and kind-hearted. Bill- well, he was, and still is- a bastard.

If it wasn't for him, I probably wouldn't be sitting in this prison cell right now.

Well, I'm not putting the complete blame on him for being here; he was a major cause for what I did though. _He _was the one who killed my parents, skipped off taking no blame and became the British Prime Minister. Someone just needed to put him straight, he thought he was a big hoo-ha, when really, he was a normal, living, breathing human: just like the rest of us. Even when I first met him, when I was still young and naïve, I still didn't like the look of him. My point had been proved he was not one to be trusted.

He had killed ten people on that one day, and ripped apart the lives of those grieving. I was just the representative of those who lost a part of their heart. When he killed my parents, my heart just turned to ice, that took so long to melt, it was the fire of my want for justice that had thawed it.

The harsh memory of losing my parents…Despite it being ten, long hard years ago, I remembered it as if it were only yesterday.

"_Clive, I need you to get away from here. I don't need you near this building; otherwise, you'll end up finding yourself in big trouble."_

If I knew what she meant by this, then I would have possibly dragged both my parents out, trying to keep the three of us together. If we all died, I wouldn't have become the wreck I am now, if we survived, I would probably have succeeded in my old job of journalism, my life-long dream I got sacked for just because of her…

"_I don't understand! What do you mean?" _Was the only thing my younger self could actually get out of my mouth.

I remember the look in her eyes. It was a mix between loss and desperation. She knew her fate, yet she just sent me out, when she could have got herself out pretty easily as well? Well, knowing my mother, she probably wanted me out, just to make herself feel slightly relieved before her date with death struck.

"_Just get out of this building and stay as far away as you can! You'll understand what I mean eventually Clive, you're a smart boy. My smart, beautiful boy."_

At then all I did was gag at her soppy comment, but if I knew what was about to happen, I would have wrapped myself tightly in her arms and never let go. I could have felt like I actually had someone to love me and care for me then.

I remembered I only walked faster than usual in confusion, but when I saw how desperate my mother looked, I sped up to a jog, and once I had opened the door (with some struggle, I was pulling it too much so the door wouldn't open), into a run.

After my first few steps outside, all I heard was a massive, deafening noise. I covered my ears tightly, before the noise finally stopped. Finally uncovering them, I turned in the direction of the noise to see what it was.

My heart stopped.

That was the explosion that killed my parents, Claire, and seven other's I didn't know the names of.

I remembered trying to run back into the destroyed building, to try and get back to my parents. _Clive, there still in there! You have to get them out! _I had already seen Dimitri shoot past into the building, he probably had had the day off, and Bill had gone all big-headed.

Just as I was about to enter the building, now covered up in flames from the reaction, a sharp pain went around my wrist and I fell backwards. I was already a wreck in the tears streaming down my face, and this just made it worse. _That was Professor Hershel Layton grabbing my wrist…if only I knew. _

"NO!" I literally screeched into his face. "My mummy and daddy are still in there!"

Though, unlike most people would, he gave me no sympathy, despite having just lost his dearly beloved. "Pull yourself together boy!" he shouted, like a man having to command his dog with the fiercest tone he could muster. "If you go in there, you'll die too!"

_If I managed to get out of his grip, my life wouldn't be such a misery now. _He had held me in a certain way, so when he wrapped his arms around me, I could move around and breathe, but it was tight enough so no open routes were available and I couldn't escape. My head had been on the top of his arm, just underneath his shoulder. Since he was the one in control, he turned around so I couldn't see any more of the incident, and started walking off in a direction that we were nowhere near the scene. "NO! Nohoho!"

~x~

The two of us had walked in an uneasy silence away. I didn't know this part of town, or how long I had been walking, but I guessed it had been between ten and fifteen minutes, though it felt like decades. The man, or Professor- had tested my obedience by letting me go slightly, and when he realised I was too shocked to do anything other than follow him, he had just let me walk at his side, like a loyal dog, in some respects.

He ended up taking me to a small café, one of those where you just stop by for a drink and a chat. "Look, I know you're shaken up, my boy, but you must eat, and then we'll think about what we're going to do with you."

I nodded my head slowly, before the two of us walked into the building. It was completely empty, apart from one woman who was just about to leave. She had just gotten up from her seat, and the Professor had held the door open for her as she had departed. I gave him a look, his expressionless face showing nothing, and then walked into the building.

The building had given a warm feeling. It had been pretty nippy this morning, so the warmth of being inside of the building felt soothing against my bitter-cold skin. "Hershel, what's the matter?"

The voice had come from a woman who was just starting to get wrinkles on her face. She wasn't the skinniest person I had met, and had a double chin. Her hair, which was losing its blonde streaks to a pale grey, almost white colour, was tied up in a loose bun, which was probably for practical uses. Her eyes had faded from a light blue to a duller shade, and there wasn't any life in them at all, the only emotion emanating from them being curiosity for the elder.

The man sighed, his head bowed low in a sense of loss. "Claire…" he breathed. That was the first time I had seen any slight emotion come from him, the feeling that he could have-no, should have, done something to save her. I'm not surprised, most people, whether it be natural or like this, end up feeling like this at some point in the bereavement process.

"What about Claire?" The woman asked. She was obviously the stereotype blonde, absolutely stupid. Though I find stereotypes slightly harsh, I had to admit that. Being British, everyone expected me to be ugly, have bad teeth, drink tea twenty four hours a day, and love cricket. My father used to play cricket with me, and I always loved it, since he was hardly ever home, but I knew nobody who fit into all four of those categories.

"She's gone…" he started, lowering his head even more. "…They were working on time exploration, her, Bill and Dimitri. They were building a time machine…they nearly finished too. Something must have gone wrong though, everywhere was either in flames or rubble when I got there. This boy here would have ran back in, making the death total go up by another if I hadn't caught him just in time. Your parents were in there, I presume?" he said, looking me straight in the eye. I just nodded, feeling awkward by the look he gave me.

"Oh, Hershel, I'm so sorry…"

"I loved Claire dearly, I know, but a true gentleman never makes others suffer his own pain."

The woman then turned her attention on me, her eyes full of sympathy. "Poor lad…" she muttered to herself.

Her gaze then wafted over into the corner of the room, by the entrance. I followed her eye-line to see what she was looking at. There was a small black and white television there, which suddenly changed from a strange bed advert to Breaking News. The presenter of the normal news channel, a man who was probably around forty years old pushed his glasses up his nose, picked up a piece of paper, and began his report.

"An explosion has occurred in London around half an hour ago. Ten victims have been confirmed and names, many more injured." He started. "The following images and scenarios may be upsetting to viewers, if this so happens to be you, look away now."

I automatically turned away; I couldn't bear to go through it again. It still haunts me as a fully grown man. I had covered my ears tightly with my hands, but it still didn't block the screams of those traumatised by what had just gone on. Over all of them, I could easily hear my own, the noise making rattling me to the bone, making me want to shoot myself. I could then hear the man's slightly softer voice, since it had stuck so well in my head, and even more of my own screaming. "It's stopped now, kid." The woman said softly, as the screen hummed back onto a detective film.

I looked back up, since I had smashed my face into the table I was sat at in distress, but realised then how hard I had actually been pushing against my ears. They were burning in pain, and felt like they were relaxing from the pressure. I could hardly hear anything; my ears felt like I was under a swimming pool with no surface. _I had lost the two people I loved with all my heart in three seconds, if that. How much worse could get? _Well, Clive, you will find that out in a decade or so's time.

I had put my head back on the table and sighed heavily, my head deep in thought. _What was going to happen to me now? _My parents had both been the only one's out of them and their siblings to live, and my grandparent's had all passed long before I was even thought of. The woman looked at me, then the man again. "So, what are you planning on doing with him then?" she asked him.

The man gave a slightly pressurised aura off. He was obviously so distraught with Claire, that he hadn't thought about me. I couldn't blame him, I had only just thought about what I was going to do with myself. "I honestly don't have a clue…" he started. "If- If Claire was still around, I would have considered adopting him…but I could never do something like that on my own." He stopped, obviously thinking again. "But since she isn't…and I'm no expert of this sort of thing, the only option I really have left other than that that wouldn't completely ruin his life is sending him to the orphanage…"

That last word rung like a non-stopping bell. _Orphanage…_

**I am working on this version now, and then deleting the old one once I have gotten to where I left off in that one. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

The night after I had been sent to the orphanage was one of my first steps to how I had become now. I just needed to express myself, and paper was the only way.

My first night hadn't been that good either. I had ended up staying overnight in hospital, and not because of the explosion.

On the second night, Jenny, one of the workers at the orphanage who hadn't been there to admire the scene that had happened the day before, had come into my room when I hadn't come down to tonight's meal.

I had been rested on my bed, crying slightly over my deceased parents. I had been facing the window, but when she came in, I rolled over to see what she wanted, despite knowing.

"_Clive, dinner's ready."_

"_Not hungry." _I said, rolling back over and ignoring her. She didn't know about my hunger needs, so she needn't bother, I could do what I want!

"_You have to eat, Clive, otherwise you'll starve yourself to death." _Jenny was a very overdramatic and pessimistic sort of woman, and was always known for scaring the younger children. I, however, didn't really care. She came and sat next to me on the bed at that point. I didn't really like her there though, and wanted to shove her, but I didn't.

"_I ate yesterday, so I'm not starving myself." _I muttered under my breath. My stomach felt like it was going to explode and all my guts come pouring out if I tried eating anything.

Well, let me explain why I felt like that.

~x~

Duke, the foster carer who had taken charge of me the day before had taken me down for my first meal. Despite being distraught by all that had gone on- since the explosion had been the day before that, the man let me stay where he lived for that one night-, I was actually pretty curious to meet the others in the orphanage. I hadn't met any of them yet, since I had been separated when they were sorting me out.

As we reached outside of the boy's dining room, Duke bent down to my level and looked me in the eye. _"Now, most of these boys are a lot older you, only one or two of them aren't in their teens, and if they aren't, they will be before your next birthday. If they do anything to upset you, come and tell me straight away. Most of them came when they were six or seven at the most, so they've grown up quite boisterous, so if they hurt you either, do what I said a second ago. Understand?"_

I nodded my head. Duke was pretty serious when it came to something he needed to be mature about, but he could be quite fun when he wanted to be. He started off a huge water-fight one year I was there; most of the village the orphanage was in came to join in.

He then opened the door to the dining room. It was pretty large, and most people were scattered around in their own groups. Some ate alone quietly, but those were mostly the younger ones. I could see why he warned me now about the older ones.

"_Boys, this is Clive, now be nice now_." He said, giving me a small shove in, and mouthing "_Remember what I said. I mean it."_

I nodded my head to him, before walking in. He stood by the door until most people had given me a greeting, and nodded to them all; giving them some rules, like don't be out later than ten etc. before leaving. I regretted that so, so much.

"_Hey, kid. The name's Jackson Samson." _

The icy voice that came from behind me made me jump. I wish I never met him now, it would be better, for the both of us.

When I turned around, I saw a _very _tall (well, six foot did look big when I was eleven year old- and pretty small for my age), near-enough man in his late teens. He had messy brown hair and was getting a stubble. His general appearance made him look reckless.

"_Hello, I'm-"_ I started, until a sudden pain hit my throat. Something sharp had been shoved down it. Jackson has put one hand over my mouth, the other one forcefully stroking my throat, so I couldn't shout or make any noise._ "Kid, I know your name, and honestly, I didn't care in the first place."_ He kept doing this until he could tell I had swallowed whatever he put into my mouth, and then went off to his room laughing with the rest of his gang.

Once Duke came in to clean up (because nobody dare go near Jackson or mess up his work), he ended up finding me on the floor, hardly able to breathe. He took me straight to Accident and Emergency, and the results showed that he had shoved something he really shouldn't have down there. So, I also ended up having an operation to have it cut out (and that was another reason I wasn't hungry, it still felt like it was cut open). I remembered that I'd rather be with the girls than go through with that, and at that age, most boys want to tread over girl's dolls instead of making best friends.

~x~

After dinner had finished, I was still lying on my bed. Jenny had given up long ago, so I was just keeping as quiet as I could, until a girl of thirteen came in. "Hey, are you the kid that Jackson beat up?" she asked.

Since it wasn't one of the boys, and she seemed friendly enough, I decided to roll over (I still wasn't facing the door), and answer her. "Unfortunately."

She sat down next to me on the bed, smiling. The smile seemed genuine enough, and she looked like she had come here to cheer me up rather than mock me. "I'm Kiki, Kiki Anderson." She started. Then she gave me a sympathetic look, which really annoyed me. She lost her parents, so it's not as if she _didn't _know how annoying it could be. "Don't worry; I lost both my parents in explosions too. My mother was in one at the old hospital seven years ago, she was a nurse there trying to get everyone out and then lost her own life, and my father was in an accident similar to your parents."

"Thanks for reminding me." I said, rolling over so she couldn't see my eyes watering up.

"Clive, you're going to get adopted off really soon, most of us are already teenagers, and the people who come here always go off with the cutest ones anyway." she smiled softly.

"I'd rather be back with my own parents, thanks." I muttered. "They probably would make me feel a lot better." I slowly rolled back to face her again.

Kiki sighed. "I guess I'm not going to win." She then looked me straight in the eye, he piercing green eyes locking with my soft brown ones. "Anyway," she said, obviously trying to change the awkward subject, "How if your English so good for your age? You're speaking how I usually do and saying words I only recently learnt, despite our two year age gap."

"I've learnt from the newspapers." I said quietly. "I've always wanted to be a journalist…"

"I've always wanted to be like my mum, but what happened freaked me out from doing it." Kiki mused.

"You could always be a doctor and work at a medical practise." I said.

"True, but I always wanted to work on the really important cases that could end up saving someone's life." She said softly.

"Working at a doctor's could mean stopping things before they get too back and end up having to get treated at the hospital, like diagnosing cancer and being able to stop it with simple medication or a few small tests rather than an operation. Operations hurt you know." I said, just as another stomach cramp came along, making me moan in pain."

"Are you sure you're alright?" she said. I slowly nodded with a fake smile on. She could tell it wasn't genuine, but she wasn't going to argue. "Anyway, you're right about what you said; perhaps I should become a doctor instead."

"It's your choice" I said softly.

"I'm used to being told what to do; I lived with my grandmother until she passed away a year ago, and always told me what to do, how to dress, how to eat, how to talk, everything."

"But around here, people are like a wild pack of animals, right?"

Kiki laughed then, almost until she couldn't breathe. "Yes, they are, but it's just so funny how you put it then, especially with that accent!"

She was talking about me still having my childish lisp. I smiled at her then. From everyone I had met, I was the youngest here, so I preferred being by the adults rather the rowdy teenagers. Because I was the smallest, around the teenagers, I felt like they were a pack of wild animals on top of me.

"Sorry for sounding rude, but I'm awfully tired, and I was planning on going to sleep."

"Oh, OK." Kiki said, obviously not taking any offense, the smile stayed planted on her face. Just as she was about to open the door, she turned around. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yes, tomorrow." I nodded.

"Well, goodnight Clive."

"Goodnight."

I quickly got changed into my nightclothes from the orphanage, since my other one's were probably either ash or buried under the rubble still. Following that, I got properly in the bed, and almost immediately dropped off into sleep...

I found myself on my old street, walking up it alone. It was a quiet part of town, so it was pretty much safe to be alone on the roads as long as you were aware of residents and the odd car. There was nobody there, well, I thought so, until I saw _him_. It was a boy about my age coming out of the flat I lived in, he had soft light brown hair and strangely dark brown eyes for around this part of the world. That's when I realised who it was. It was me, and I was watching myself from outside of my body. I was about to watch the explosion from outside of my body. I saw everything, and it broke my heart over and over again.

I woke up screaming and in a cold sweat. _You think that nightmare was bad, young me? It slowly gets worse and worse. _I checked the clock. I can't remember the exact time, but it was the middle of the night, somewhere between two and five in the morning. I had fell back onto the pillow, but I knew I wouldn't be able to go to sleep after that. There were two pillows, and I had grabbed the bottom one and just sobbed my dear heart out into it. My mind was filled with philosophical thoughts, and other things concerning death. I was shaking out of fear. Then I realised how unlike myself I was actually being. _Well Clive, you just lost the only people you loved. You lost your friends, the only others you could trust. You've moved 50 miles away from your life, though it might as well be 50 universes. _

That was the moment psychotic Clive first came to the meet and greet. _It felt like someone was trying to destroy my life…_they didn't know, but I knew that I wanted revenge. Justice. I had gotten out of the bed, it still being the middle of the night, turned on the lamp, found a pen, and just wrote whatever flowed out from the pen onto the page:

_Dear the person who has ended up leaving me orphaned, made me move to the worst place on Earth, and generally has ruined my life,_

_I don't know who you are, but I hate you, I mean HATE you, for what you have done. You've ruined my life, and plenty of others, and I am going through what is harder than I originally thought could be possible. You've left me homeless, orphaned, and didn't you think about at least trying to help me, or anybody, who lost someone or something dear to their heart due to the events yesterday YOU caused? Oh, no. You just went off and ignored us all. Well, thanks a lot for what you did. Thanks a bloody lot. I will find you, and get my revenge on you for doing this, no matter how long it takes, whether it is tomorrow or at either of our death beds. You think this is funny, because I am an _incompetent, naïve,_ child? Well, you will find out what I can do. I will be standing, smiling maliciously over you as you take your last breath. I don't lie, whoever you are, lying is for cowards, and I am no coward. _

_Regards,_

_Clive, the son of two victims of your stupid, careless idea._

I only read it once I had finished. I felt so _evil_ reading it, but also _refreshed. _And no, it was completely true, not just out of being in a rage at the person. I read it again, and again, and _again_, my breath was icily cold against the paper as I brought harsh images of the person's slow, bloody death into my mind. Was this really who I was? Was this who I was to become? _Yes, Clive, this is you. _

I loved my parents with all my heart. I only left the flat when I was going to play with my friends, going to the shops, or in an incident such as the day before. For my parents, I would have done _anything _to put a smile on their faces; I was ambitious to make everyone proud, them especially. I had never done anything to deserve what _they _did to me, nor my parents. I hadn't done anything. Like _they _had done, I refused to stand at the side-line eating popcorn and sipping on a drink of pop. I was a fighter, and whether fully grown man, young child, or slowly-dying pensioner, I would fight. For myself, my parents, for other victims, and for justice.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: Most Londoner's didn't know what animals were around the time this is set. I've only been to London four times, so I don't know place names etc. The orphanage is based just outside of London.**

I woke up again to feel a throbbing pain at the side of my head. At first I had thought it was a headache, possibly a migraine, but I had actually just rolled my head in my sleep to the end of the desk I had been sat at. _I must have just dozed off._

I checked what time it was on the clock. It was now 6.45. At least it wasn't another stupidly early hour; I could stay awake and actually start getting ready for the day. Then I realised that it was now a Monday. _I'm too tired to go to school, mother will wake me up in five- _Then I realised what I had just said.

I decided to get up and go for a stroll around the orphanage to wake myself up. It wasn't overly big, I wouldn't get lost.

"_Hello, Clive! Sleep well?"_

Due to the current grogginess of my brain, I couldn't tell whose voice it was, nor where it was coming from. My brain just wouldn't comprehend. I rubbed my left eye, due to the remnants of sleep still in it, and covered my mouth for a yawn before I could focus. It had been Kiki, smiling and looking down on me, due to my slight height disadvantage. She was also bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, and an energetic aura was emanating from her. _"Someone's tired, huh?"_

"_No, I'm fine."_ I said sarcastically. I was known for being a grump when tired, not just through my childhood.

Kiki gave me a soft look, giggling softly at my comment. _"So, ready for school?"_

"_They're really going to drive me to my school? It's fifty miles away!"_

"_Silly, you'll get moved to one around here!"_ At least she was someone who accepted a child's stupidity if they made an amusing comment.

"_And that would be?"_

"_From my guessing, Oakenlodge Primary. That's where I went."_

That was when Jenny walked up to the two of us. _"I guess nine to ten would fit you, since you're small for your age."_ She said, holding up a navy green jacket with lapels, white shirt lined with buttons from the neck to stomach, red and navy green striped tie, and black tailored trousers. _"Be a good boy and try them on. If they're a little too small, then come find me."_

I walked back into my own room with them folded in the crease of my arm, and put them on as if there was no tomorrow. Instead of them being small, they were actually a bit big, but the size down would be probably a bit too snug. I then walked out to go and show her, to see her coming out of one of the other's rooms- a quiet, serene boy named Richard. She seemed to notice me just as she softly shut the door. _"Perfect size." _She grinned, holding two thumbs up. _"You just need to sort yourself out; you look like you got dressed in about three seconds!"_ She then let out a small laugh, fiddling around with my left collar.

"_I did, though."_ I muttered, walking into my own room again so at least I had a mirror to look into. I managed to get the most of it sorted out, apart from that one clump of hair sticking up. I tried to comb it back down, but that didn't work. Well, at least it didn't look like I was a tramp, so I just kept it there.

I walked out again to see Duke this time around. _"Someone looks smart."_ He said, a small smile on his face. _"Go and get some breakfast then."_

The dining hall wasn't that far from my room, all you had to do was go down the corridor, a flight of stairs, then you'd be there. Most of the older boys were asleep, their school didn't start until half ten, strangely, so just the younger, nicer one's were there. Most of them were girls though, the breakfast room was shared since there were less people in this sitting.

Kiki was sitting with three other girls at a rectangular table when I walked in, chatting about some homework. She gave me a huge grin, making the other girls turn around to see who she was looking at. They looked away for a second and started muttering, trying to not let me hear, but I could, oh so well.

"_Hey, isn't that the boy who lost his parents in that time machine explosion last Friday?"_

"_Yes, it is. Wasn't he also the one who got beaten up by Jackson on Saturday?"_

"_He had an operation because of him."_

"_You three, don't talk about people behind their backs!" _Kiki hissed in frustration, her dark eyebrows burrowed. _"I lost my parents in explosions too; I know how it feels, and it's not a nice feeling at all!"_

The other three looked away, and then smiled at me as if they hadn't done anything wrong. _"Mock me then." _I said, angling my head so they couldn't see my eyes nor my eyebrows. _"I'm just the little boy who everyone uses as their doll. I can easily get picked on because all the children who were here my age have already been adopted or grown up." _I had clenched my fists and gritted my teeth without realising. _"Well, here's some information for you! I have feelings! I breathe the same air as you! We live in the same building and have the same status! We're all orphans who will end up with the worst jobs! All my family- not just my parents- are dead! Don't think I don't care either!" _I had raised my voice loud enough for the whole room to here. It was filled with an awkward silence. Everyone looked shocked; Kiki being the most.

I stormed off to get some food and then sat and ate in silence. If anyone looked at me, I would give them a dark look in return. I left the room without saying anything else once I finished, apart from thanking the cook for food, then went and finished sorting out what I needed. I was about five minutes early for the bus that would come and pick us up.

I decided to just go and wait where it picked us up, in case it came slightly earlier. I ended up waiting three or four minutes, so it was _slightly _early, but- never mind.

The door opened, and I slowly got in, followed by another seven or eight after me. They were probably going to another school, Primary School usually ended the summer after your eleventh. I went and sat down by myself next to a window seat, still holding a grudge, and I didn't really want to talk in general. I sighed as I just watched the scenery roll by as the bus went from one stop to another. The area around here is much different to what I was used to. I lived near an industrial part of London, but this had countryside and all. I liked it- though it would have been better if my parents were there.

"_Um, excuse me. May I sit here?"_

I looked over to see a girl who must have been around my age. She was probably an inch or two taller than me, but average for our age, had her long, dark hair in two pigtails on either side of her head and honey brown eyes. She was looking at me with a slight tilt with her head. _"The seat's free, but I'm not in a talkative mood."_

"_That doesn't matter, I'm usually pretty quiet too." _She said, a small smile on her face_. "Anyway, I'm Haven. Haven Adeline Franks."_

"_I'm Clive." _I muttered, turning to face her. _"My surname's Roberts, but I guess it's not anymore. My parents died last Friday."_

She let out a small gasp. Most people sound overdramatic there, or like they're faking it, but she sounded completely genuine. "_I'm so sorry. If you want I can move somewhere else when the bus stops next."_

"_It doesn't matter." _I said, trying to sound more positive then. _"Talking may stop me thinking about it, and you seem like a genuinely nice person."_

Haven giggled. _"I'm flattered. And anyway, are you new to the school as well? I didn't recognise you when I first saw you."_

"_First day." _I said, giving an enthusiastic enough smile for going to school. _"And I never lived in this area before my parents died."_

"_Ah, that must be why then. So, what year are you going to be in?"_

"_Year 6. And WHAT IS THAT?!" _I said, pointing out the window. It drew quite a lot of attention, but most people said _'It's just the weird psychopath being weird'. _

Haven giggled. _"Oh, so you've never seen a sheep before, hmm?"_

"_No! It looks really weird!"_

"_Well, no more wool jackets for you. It comes from their fur when it's hot and the farmers shave it off."_

"_And what are THOSE?"_

"_Cows."_

"_And THOSE?"_

"_Pigs."_

"_And THOSE?"_

"_Chickens. We use Cows for beef and milk, Pigs for pork and Chickens for, well, chicken, and eggs."_

"_I really don't like it. I want to get off."_

"_Come on, scardey cat, they're not going to become massive and eat you. You eat them. And anyway, we're here now. How nervous are you on a scale of one to ten?"_

I lowered my voice. _"Nine and a half."_

"_Why?" _she asked, waiting for everyone furthest from the exit to pile out first. She obviously wanted to get off last, and to keep at least some privacy in our conversation.

I generally wouldn't have answered, but, since she seemed nice enough, like Kiki, I did. _"New Area, New School, Now Orphaned, I've already been beaten up since I was orphaned, and I don't wish to be beaten up again." _The whole list just rolled off my tongue. _"Now do we wait outside or go straight in and do something time-occupying until lessons start?"_

"_Wait outside, but the Under-7's used to go in and do these little activities, like finding words out of another bigger word, drawing themselves, sometimes it could be really boring, but sometimes it could be fun." She said. "Once the bell goes, we line up here" _she said, pointing to a line forming a football ground that had been marked into the tarmac, probably about when we were born, most likely before._ "And wait until our teacher, Miss Green comes out, marks us on her register and takes us into class, for our first lesson, Maths. Are you good at Maths? I'm not."_

"_It really depends what you class as _good."

Haven giggled softly. "_Sounds like you didn't have a very good night's sleep. Or you're just really grumpy."_

"_I'm not grumpy! And I'm just exhausted after everything that's gone on."_

Haven nodded in understanding. The bell rung and the two of us walked back to the line as we had slowly been walking away from it during conversation. Numerous other people lined up, it looked like the whole year group was in Miss Green's class.

Out of the building walked three adults; a man with grey hair in a stripy shirt and cream trousers, a lively young woman who looked like she had stuck her finger in a plug socket, aged twenty five at the most, and a woman who had tied her blonde hair into a tight bun, and was wearing a dark ladies suit. _"That's Miss Green." _She said, pointing to the formal looking woman._ "She looks strict, but she really wouldn't hurt a fly."_

The three teachers made their ways to the three lines formed, Miss Green standing straight in front of ours. She called out every name, the child going into the building when she said their name, until I was the last one left. _"You must be the new boy. Your name's Klaus, right?"_

"_It's Clive, ma'am."_ I said, a smile on my face, making a good first impression.

"_Oh sorry, but you have such nice manners for a boy your age." _She sighed._ "Maybe you could teach the rest of the class. Well then, _Clive_, we should better be going into the classroom then." She said. "I'll make sure everybody's nice to you, and nobody mentions the events last week." _She started walking off, but then stopped to say the last sentence.

I silently followed like a lap dog, thinking just how little she actually knew. And I KNEW that it had only just begun, even as an eleven year old boy.


End file.
